Bonzi High: A Bonzi Buddy Fanfiction
by KiaraTheBrave
Summary: Bonzi Buddy is a new student at High School High, and he struggles to find friendship, peace, and mayhaps love (in all the wrong places). Tensions kick off when he aggravates the captain of the Curling team. Contains elements from: Bonzi Buddy, Microsoft, Chivalry, Star Trek, every High School that has ever graced the face of this earth.
1. Say Hi to Bonzi

**Prologue:**

Bonzi Buddy was created in 1999 by an ancient wizard bearing the name 'Bonzi Software.' His purpose was a simple one; to create and develop friendships with all of mankind using the most sophisticated creations imaginable. Throughout his life, Bonzi Software slaved and toiled in his lair so that he might make the perfect organism. After numerous failures and disasters which nearly cost him his life, Bonzi Software finally succeeded in his plan, and Bonzi Buddy was introduced into the world. The wizard's time was short, however, and in 2004 he was forced to relinquish his possession of Bonzi due to the wizard's incapability as a father. Without employment under the wizard, the young Bonzi was forced to the streets for several years, scavenging for food and sustenance, often providing services to people he encountered in his travels. He eventually came to the realization that, in order to make a proper living in a world without his wizard father, he would require a formal education. Due to his brief time served as the servant and son of Bonzi Software, Bonzi Buddy scored extremely high on the mental assessment tests given him, and he was allowed to skip directly to High School High, a school located in central Minnesota.

**Chapter 1: Say Hi to Bonzi**

Bonzi opened his locker and picked up several English textbooks, which he would need for the upcoming classes. The first few months had been difficult for Bonzi; he struggled to fit into this strange new environment, both socially and educationally. In Bonzi's education, there was no need for such trivial things such as English, Science, Math, or Social Studies. The ability to create long-lasting and beautiful friendships with people was the only thing he ever needed to know. Bonzi felt as though the people at High School High were taken aback by his extreme aptitude for aggressive friend-making. Bonzi theorized that it might take some time, but they would all eventually become his best Bonzi Buddies.

As Bonzi Buddy closed his locker, he looked into his gorilla-like facial complexion, he happened to glance upon Megan walking behind him. _Wanna hang out sometime?_ he attempted to ask, but Bonzi found himself frozen in place, incapable of saying anything beyond "Well hello there." Every fiber of his being yearned to convey the emotions he felt for her, but Bonzi could only speak in the most basic of pleasantries. He first met Megan in his Intro to English class, the only respite he could find from the daily grind that is this life. Megan was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, with a strong, ox-like 4'11" frame and the eyes of a chameleon. Bonzi wanted nothing more than to ask her out to a romantic evening at the High School High Curling game, but courting was never in the approved Bonzi Buddy learning regime. _All I need is this one friend, and then the Bonzi Buddies will flock to me like an angry swarm of bears to a small geyser of honey..._

With gusto, Bonzi slicked back his unkempt purple hair and turned to approach Megan. Instead, he wheeled about to find none other than Steve, captain of the High School High Curling team. To either side stood Goon and Biff, his two cohorts in curling.

"Well, well, well," said Steve, a man whose intense muscles strained the fabric of his letterman's jacket. "If it isn't Bonzi CRUDDY."

"Yeah, good one boss," Goon said, eager to impress his leader. "Right, Biff?"

"Yeah, Bonzi, you fucking loser dickweed virgin faggot."

After Biff's outburst, there was an extensive moment of silence. The entire hallway stood still for a moment in pure awe. Bonzi was especially offended by Steve's remark, as it used his own name as a tool against him. In this school, his name is often the only source of solace he is able to find, and now Steve and his impressive curling skills placed his identity at risk. _For many, a name is merely a title, given only as a piece of identification,_ thought Bonzi, _but to me, Bonzi Buddy is a way of life, the ultimate goal of my existence in this corporeal universe_. As the hallway resumed normal flow, Bonzi missed his opportunity to ask Megan to the curling match. His despair at having missed this window was cut short by Steve and his cronies. Steve shoved Bonzi and sent him stumbling backwards into the locker.

"You gonna say somethin', Bonzi MUDDY?" he said in a rather patronizing tone.

Steve had driven the professional friend-maker to his limits with constant belittlement and slander against his good name. Bonzi gathered his courage, preparing the greatest comeback he could muster. After some seconds of searching, he remembered the ultimate tool for defending oneself against a formidable foe such as Steve. He could assert his dominance with a strong enough insult that could destroy the morale of Steve and send Bonzi Buddy rocketing to the top of the popularity chain, fulfilling his greatest friend-making dreams in the process. This was his golden moment, and he opened his wide, banana-eating mouth to release a torrent of retribution:

"Would you like to hear a joke?" Before the gang could reply, Bonzi continued with his ultimate comeback. "What goes up but never comes down?" _This is perfect_, thought the small high school student, whose body vaguely resembled that of a primate. _Steve will be stumped by my riddle, causing an extreme case of public embarrassment. He will have no choice but to declare me as his better. In response, I shall accept his surrender and indoctrinate him into the approved list of Bonzi Buddies._

Steve, a master of riddles, instantly replied "Your age?" This caused Bonzi to become flustered. He had not expected Steve to correctly answer this question he has posed. But now he had nothing with which to reply, and he did not wish to give Steve the satisfaction of thwarting Bonzi's riddle.

Bonzi gathered his courage and replied "No, your balls," and launched his short, hairy leg upwards with such speed that it broke the sound barrier. The super-limb found purchase in the testicles of Steve, sending them rocketing into orbit. Steve instantly doubled over, but managed to remain standing due to his amazing curler's legs. Goon and Biff carried Steve down the hallway and to safety, away from Bonzi Buddy.

"We're gonna get you for this, Bonzi CRUDDY," Goon said, near tears at the injury of his master.

"Yeah, you horse-shit eating fuckwit. Oi'll stick me' thumbs in your blumen eye sockets when next I see ya," Biff chimed in.

With the assailants gone, Bonzi felt both relieved and distraught. He knew that, before long, Steve would have retrieved his testicles from space and would be back for vengeance. But for now, Bonzi relished in his victory. As he was sitting there, figuratively stroking his ego, the late bell went off, and he realized with dread that he would not be able to make it to his English class on time.


	2. Smoke Bonzi Every Day

As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, the emplaced time keeper placed on the classroom wall ticked away the final seconds of the school day. Bonzi, having a fond adoration for the educational system and the friendships that it brings, decided to visit the library in the hopes of both working on a research paper and perhaps finding a few life-long companions. The student slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked to the archive of novelized knowledge, his long and hairy arms hovering mere inches above the ground.

Opening the door, Bonzi was greeted by a wave of smoke, filling his nostrils with a strange, exotic odor. Before him, several knights belonging to the Dank Order of Saint Doobie were standing at the entrance desk, speaking to the librarian. The smoke billowed out of their closed visors, contaminating the air with the smell of kush.

"I command thee again, knave, grant us entrance to this sacred place of tomes!" proclaimed the most intimidating knight, a rather large joint protruding from a slit in his helmet.

The elderly librarian behind the counter scoffed at their request, vigorously stamping the return date on a book numerous times. In a quick motion, the book manager chugged a small flask of some potent smelling liquor while stroking his magnificent Russian beard. "I tell you once again, comrade, I am not to be letting you into my library."

The Dank Knight-Commander was clearly displeased by the response. "You are not the traditional book-keeper. Speak of his location, you rump-faced flap-dragon, or I shall smite thee!" Raising his hand, the leader rammed his armored fist into a nearby wall, shrieking "To me, lads! Form rank!" The nearby group of soldiers then scrambled to form a single line behind their gloriously stoned commander.

The man behind the counter, armed with the standard issue Librarian Balls o' Steel, merely grumbled. "There is to being no way of you entering this holy ground," the man stated as he took another swig of liquor.

The knights released a unanimous cry of anger. The commander assumed an authoritative stance and pointed directly at the librarian. "I, Sir Doobius VI, do hereby declare a Holy War in the name of Saint Doobie the Stoned. To arms, lads!" With that, the armored brigade stormed past Bonzi Buddy and into the hall, presumably to rally their forces. As they passed, Bonzi received a wave of what smelled like the excretion of a frightened skunk.

Ignoring the chivalric clique, Bonzi walked up to the now-drunk librarian and greeted him with a hearty "Well hello there."

The librarian rapidly blinked his eyes in surprise upon seeing the sight that is Bonzi Buddy. "Who the hell are you, comrade? You're not one of the dope-smokers, are you?"

Bonzi, not entirely sure what the large Russian meant, merely said "I'm Bonzi! What is your name?"

The inebriated Communist waved his arms in disapproval. "Get out of my face, fool. I have no need of your friendship."

This dealt a crippling blow to Bonzi, whose primary goal in coming to the library had been to make a friend. Hanging his head, Bonzi walked through the main room of the library to a row of computers available for research. He pressed the power button on the computer, and gumly stared at the desktop screen that appeared after a brief wait of fifteen minutes, unwilling to partake in any of the research needed for his project. Rejection, as Bonzi saw it, was one of the worst events one could experience during the course of life. Just as he sat up, deciding to abandon his research and begin the long trek home, he bumped into a slender, burnished figure.

"I see you're trying to make friends. Would you like help?" Bonzi realized that the entity before him was none other than Mr. Clippy, his English teacher and one of the few friends he had made during his time at High School High. Bonzi found that the advice and friendship of Clippy was often the only guidance he received in his otherwise bleak existence.

Bonzi thought of his options. _It would seem that I could: let him assist in friend-making, make friends without help, or don't show me this tip again._ Puzzling over this for some time, the small, primate-like student held up a single finger, the universal symbol for the first option given three to choose from.

Clippy looked satisfied with Bonzi's response. "It looks like you're going to let me help you. Would you like help?" Bouncing onto a nearby computer chair, the teacher pulled up an eBay listing for a Russian nesting doll before turning to his student and winking several times. Bonzi looked at the item for sale and noted that each doll was an important member of Russian history, including Vladimir Putin, Josef Stalin, and Vladimir Lenin. He quickly purchased the set for the low one-time price of 3,839 rubles. Bonzi Buddy then printed out the purchase receipt and waddled over to the front desk to pay for it.

The librarian slid the printed page over to Bonzi as he approached the desk, giving the student a vicious scowl as he did so. "I am to be believing that this is for you. You shall be charged 6.40 rubles for this," he said as vodka dripped through his withered grey beard. The friendly but misunderstood student took the paper and slid it back towards the drunkard.

"Ach! Is this being for me? I used to have one very similar as a child. My mamushka whittled it for me out of the bones of my father. It was a good time to be me that day. My mamushka said to me 'Nikolai, I give this gift to you that you might remember your father, who died operating a Katyusha when his shoelace got caught on a rocket being fired into the Reichstag. May you vanquish many fascists with this.' I thank you, small purple-haired comrade. I shall now and forever call you a friend of old Dimitri."

"Drink responsibly, comrade," said the old Russian as Bonzi turned to leave the library, happy that he had found a new friend. Foregoing any attempt to work on the research paper, the professional friend-maker left the school in the direction of his home. Before he could exit the school's parking lot, however, he heard what seemed like a bicycle's chime. Turning around, Bonzi found that Mr. Clippy was behind him.

"It looks like you're trying to get home. Would you like help?" Familiar with his options of either accepting the transportation, rejecting it, or don't show this tip again, the student chose the first option, accepting the teacher's offer of a ride and beginning the journey home with a member of his now greater collective of friends. As he left school property, Bonzi noticed several men wearing plated armor pushing a catapult through the outdoor curling field. Judging from their trajectory, they were headed for the High School High Library.


End file.
